


Kriegspiel

by Squeeze_the_Fish



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Abelas/Lavellan, F/M, Past Solas/Lavellan, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeeze_the_Fish/pseuds/Squeeze_the_Fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She was going over a report her scouts had sent her after their recent venture to Sahrnia in Emprise Du Lion. The locals had written to her swearing there were dark figures moving within the forests. She might have ignored it as simple superstition until her lieutenant at Suledin Keep sent her a missive outlining the same happenings.

She didn’t know what to make of it- Wolves? Refugees not wishing to be seen? Pockets of rebel mages, maybe?- so she’d sent Scout Harding and a group of Leliana’s people to investigate. Their report was disturbing.

Apparently, the figures could be seen around dusk every night. Silent, black shapes moving through the forest like shadows. They could not be approached, however. Harding herself sounded disbelieving when she said, _“They just…weren’t there as soon we were.”_

The report held little else. There were no tracks, nothing in the forest to indicate a disturbance which seemed impossible given the amount of activity they’d seen. It was looking more and more like she might have to investigate this herself.

It was the quiet sound of a knock on her stair banister that drew her from the report. She knew who it was before even looking up and managed a small smile to greet him.

“Cullen.”

She’d been fond of the Commander almost since the day she met him. He was a gentle sort of man, with dark circles around his eyes that spoke of the hardships he’d seen. Despite his past as a templar, he never came across as hostile or suspicious and she could not say if he even noticed she was elven for all it seemed to matter to him. He was a good man, a friend even, and an even better general to her armies.

“Inquisitor,” he said formally –she’d never been able to break him of that- but his return smile was anything but.

“What disaster are we to thwart today?” she joked and was pleased when he let out a small laugh. She knew her jokes weren’t very funny, but Cullen was the only one who didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps it was because they were- as Sera had so colorfully said- ‘ _Rubbin’ bits with your work, yeah? No wonder your sense of humor is shite.’_

“If it’s disaster you seek, I’m afraid you may be disappointed,” he said shaking his head with a slightly puzzled look on his face. “There is, however, a situation that requires your personal attention.”

There was something about his demeanor that was… _off._ The stifled grin, the mirth in his eyes, his refusal to meet her gaze- he was _amused_.

Arching an eyebrow, she turned in her chair and leaned back, putting her hands behind her head.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

He seemed to realize he’d been caught and at least had the presence of mind to look somewhat guilty.

“Oh, I don’t know. That depends on how you feel about heavily armed elves in strange armor demanding to meet with you.”

She scoffed. “And you find that funny, do you?”

“Not at all, Inquisitor. But you should see the reaction he’s garnering from the other lady elves of the keep.”

She relaxed a little. If Cullen thought for even a moment their guest was a threat, he’d be dragging him in chains before her instead of laughing about it. She took a moment to consider who it might be but drew a blank. Perhaps it was one of her clansmen? She could think of a couple Lavellan hunters who might be seen as especially handsome- though what in the world they’d be doing here, she couldn’t say.

“Very well,” she said, taking the papers from her desk and handing them to her commander. “I’ll go deal with our guest, but take a look at these. It’s Harding’s report on the situation in Sahrnia. I’m thinking we’ll need to check this out.”

Cullen gave a curt nod, “Of course.”

It wasn’t difficult to track down the mysterious visitor and she was surprised to find she recognized him as soon as she saw him. He was in the upper courtyard, just as the bottom of the stairs to Skyhold’s main keep surrounded by a small contingent of guards. She smiled just a little. She should have known Cullen would never let a stranger meet with her unguarded- perceived threat, or no. 

* * *

 

“It’s…Abelas, right?”

It had been months, but his was a name not easily forgotten. Everything about their excursion to Mythal’s Temple was etched firmly in her mind. And, she thought wincing ever so slightly, everything that came immediately after.

The ancient elf nodded once, his hawk-like gaze boring into her, his expression one of extreme displeasure.

He wore the same, intricate armor that she remembered- it was beautiful in its complexity, as foreign to her as the extravagant armors Dorian sometimes wore. It was his blade however, that drew her attention. It had an unusual shape- a scimitar, perhaps- and was emblazoned with elaborate engravings. There was a strange pull from it, obviously magical, but not one she was familiar with. It made her feel uneasy, as if the blade itself was syphoning… _something_ from her. Something vital. She wondered how he could stand to wear it.  

She took a small step back, wanting to put some distance between herself and the strange weapon. He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort, nor did he seem to have any of his own. In fact, neither did his accompanying guard. She wondered what it meant, but chose to ignore it for the moment.

“To what do we owe this honor?” she asked with a slight bow to her head.

Her choice of words seemed to annoy him. “You are the one who drank of the vir'abelasan.”

“Yes…”

“I have been compelled to protect it. To protect _you_.” He nearly spat the last part even as he took a knee before her and bowed his head. “If you will have me, I would fight at your side.”

She stared dumbly at the kneeled figure before her, her thoughts clamoring to make sense of what exactly what happening. Her guards looked just as puzzled as she did, clearing having no idea what to make of this strange elf pledging himself before her. Beyond them, most of Skyhold’s nearby inhabitants were watching curiously- several female elves among them as Cullen had described. They were making an absolute spectacle of themselves.

“ _Fenedhis_ ,” she swore, grabbing the elf by the arm and pulling him up, “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. She remembered offering him a place a Skyhold before. She also remembered his flat out refusal, his face twisting in displeasure as if insulted she would even offer.

By the look on his face, she could tell his patience was running as thin as hers. Why, if was so obviously opposed to the idea, had he come in the first place?

“As I have said, I am compelled-”

“Compelled by _who_?” she asked cutting him off.

His mouth clamped shut and his expression changed to something she could only describe as startled. As if he did not expect her to be clever enough to realize he was not here of his own volition. She folded her arms across her chest and waited for an answer.

He studied her for moment, eyes narrowing and then widening a few times over as he grappled with an answer. Finally, shaking his head he quietly said, “As a servant of Mythal, I am bound to protect what remains of her- despoiled though it may be.”

She let the insult slide for the moment, her curiosity greater than her pride, “You did not seem to feel that way before when I offered you a place at my side,” she reminded him thought she did not truly believe he had forgotten.

“Time has given me a change in perspective.”

There was more he wasn’t telling her, she was sure of it. She was also sure that his vague answers were deliberate and that he was unlikely to share more, even if pressed. For now, she was left to consider his offer.

She had no use for a protector as he seemed to imply, but as an ally, he could be useful. She wasn’t sure exactly what his talents were except that she had seen him wield some truly amazing magic in Mythal’s Temple. Yet, it was not a staff he carried, but a blade.

With Cassandra as the new Divine, Bull off with his Chargers more often than not, and Blackwall dropping hints about joining the Wardens in earnest, she was going to need someone to fill their roll in her personal entourage. She’d been toying with the idea of bringing Cullen on the field- he certainly wasn’t lacking for skill- but his position as her military advisor made him too valuable to be an ideal candidate.

Abelas’ proposal offered, if not a solution, than an opportunity, certainly. She did not trust that his intentions were pure, but it would be interesting to see what he was capable of.

If it was more than that, she dared not dwell on it. Where once she might have been in awe of the knowledge that this ancient, this _elvhen_ could offer, she could not find it in herself to show it now. She remembered well what he thought of her, of the _Dalish_. They were not his people, he’d said reminding her much of Solas. She was not ignorant of the Dalish’s flaws, but neither would she suffer those so eager to point them out while giving no solutions to make things better.

She stopped herself. Took a deep breath and centered her thoughts. A difference of opinion could be dealt with. Or ignored. Either way, she would be a fool to pass up such an asset.  

“Very well, Abelas,” she said finally, “I accept your offer. If you are to join the Inquisition, it will not be as a protector, but an ally and nothing more. I would have you defend my companions and myself with equal diligence. Agree to these terms and you may call Skyhold your home.”

The look of absolute revulsion on his face might have been comical if she weren’t aware of the implied insult and narrowed her eyes in return. She was done with this particular interaction.

“Go find him quarters,” she barked to one of the guards startling the poor man.

“Yes, Inquisitor,” he said quickly and lead Abelas away.

She let out a breath halfway between a grunt and a sigh. “ _Fen’ Harel take you_ ,” she hissed at their retreating forms.

“He seemed like a nice fellow.”

She scoffed. It was Cullen again. She turned to face her Commander who all but bounced down the Keep’s stone steps. His jovial countenance annoyed her slightly, but she was grateful for the distraction, something she was certain he knew.  

“Found that amusing did you?” By the look on his face that was clearly the case. “Perhaps then, you will find it equally amusing to know I’d have you assess his skill for combat.”

His pleased expression did not falter. “ _Me_ , Inquisitor?”

“If he’s going to be going out on missions, I need to know that he can handle it. And, I have been lead to believe you are the Keep’s current sparring champion?”

 _That_ stopped him in his tracks, face reddening from the neck up. Cullen was a lot of things, but a proud man, he was not. Humble almost to a fault, the ex-Templar was terrible at accepting any sort of compliment, praise, or even acknowledgment of skill.

“Th-that is-” he stuttered, fumbling for words.

“True and you know it. Tomorrow morning then, at first light. I’d like to see what he can do.”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Make sure _he_ knows,” she said to another guard gesturing in Abelas’ direction.

 

* * *

 

 

Abelas sat stiffly at the edge of the shemlen bed. The room was small, but dry. With a wave of his hand, a fire roared to life in the hearth across from him stamping out the chill in the air. He lay back on the bed, folding his hands over his chest and closed his eyes.

He was not alone when he entered the Fade, nor had he expected to be. An ethereal body stood before him as it had for the some time now. It was spectral in nature, vaguely elven shaped, but more than that, he could not discern. Studying the figure too closely only caused it to become even more abstract- a conscious effect by the being, to be sure.

“I have done as you asked,” he said without waiting for it to acknowledge him.

“ _You’ve infiltrated Tarasyl'an Te'las?”_ it sounded almost surprised.

“Yes.”

It had not been an easy feat. The ancient fortress was high in the mountains and the trip was a difficult one. He was not yet used to being outside the sanctuary of Mythal’s Temple and everywhere he looked he saw only ruin of their former empire.

“ _And the Inquisitor?”_

“Alive.”

There was a pause. _“Good. See to it that she stays that way.”_

Abelas could not begin to understand how the shemlen elf had attracted the interest of this being- _whatever it was_. She drank of the vir'abelasan, but Abelas could see no evidence that she’d put it to any use. That she was unworthy was a given, to think all that knowledge was lost because of her incompetence was more than he could bear. He could not imagine a worse fate for Mythal’s wisdom- would that it had been destroyed.  

“For how long must I watch her?” he asked.

_“Until I am certain of what role she will play in the coming future.”_

Abelas frowned at the ambiguous answer. “And then?”

_“I will be victorious, or dead. Either way, you will be free.”_

Abelas nodded, not satisfied exactly, but placated.

“And what of the girl?”

The Fade itself seemed to still around them, and a strange and threatening darkness permeated the air. His skin prickled painfully as if being pierced with a thousand needles all at once and he found it suddenly hard to breath. Abelas sputtered and coughed, stumbling to his knees and clawing at his throat.

_“Do not concern yourself with her fate beyond what has been tasked to you.”_

He fell forward, now on hands and knees and willed himself to nod through the excruciating pain, his muscles screaming in protest.

As soon as he did, the spell was over. He hesitantly lifted his head only to find himself alone.  


	2. Chapter 2

Lavellan woke early the next morning, before the first rays of sun had even peaked over the horizon. She dressed quickly, drawing her fair hair back into a simple plait and headed down the stairs to the main hall.

She enjoyed Skyhold this time of morning. The wood in the fireplace cracked occasionally, its impressive flames heating the hall and bathing it in warm golden-red light. The servants were just beginning to stir, moving several tables into the room in preparation for breakfast. It was peaceful.

Her gaze fell to one of the small tables already set up in the corner closest to the main doors. She was not surprised to find Cullen seated there, a plate of mostly untouched food in front of him while he studied one of several pieces of parchment he brought with him.

So engrossed with what he was reading, he didn’t notice her approach. Only when she sat down in the chair next to him did he acknowledge her.

“Good morning.”

“You need to eat,” she said pulling his breakfast plate closer to him and swiping the apple of it for herself. He rolled his eyes, but made a show of scooping some eggs on a piece of toast and taking a large bite.

Satisfied, she bit into her apple and nodded her head toward the letter still clutched in his hand. “Anything I should know about?”

He looked annoyed. “Only if you think the gossiping of overly anxious recruits merits your personal attention.”

She snorted and took another bite, lifting her brows, “Oh do tell.”

“Some of the men have been complaining about feeling, I don’t know, some kind of _tremors_ in one of the barracks. Now they’ve got the whole company thinking the roof’s about to collapse on them.”

She shrugged, “Well, Skyhold _is_ old. Think there’s anything to it?”

“No,” he said matter-of-factly, “I don’t. But many are flat out refusing to stay in the southern barracks because of it.”

“Are you going to do anything?”

“I already have.” He seemed disgusted by the admission. “Josephine got in touch with a master stonemason from Ferelden- a surface dwarf named Voldrick Glavonak. Apparently, he did some work for the Hero of Ferelden at her fortress in Amaranthine. While I loathe giving credence to their suspicions, it couldn’t _hurt_ to have him take a look around the grounds. As you said, Skyhold is old.”

It probably wasn’t a bad idea. There were some pretty iffy spots in the ancient fortress that didn’t strike her as particularly sound structurally. Not to mention the ‘renovations’ that’d been done were in haste and probably deserved a second inspection.

“Good job,” she said. Then with a mischievous grin added, “Now, tell me about your strategy for taking our elven friend down a notch.”

* * *

 

There was already a small crowd gathered in the practice yard when she and Cullen arrived. They were mostly his soldiers, eager to see their Commander in action. There were also, she noticed, quite a few elves among the onlookers. Some she recognized as kitchen staff, others messengers and even a few of Leliana’s people identifiable by their statue-still posture and the way the seemed to blend into the shadows.

Abelas was already waiting in the sparring ring, fully armed and armored, an impressive sight to be sure.

Seeing him now, she could understand why her people might be curious. Most elves were simply not built for heavy armor and weapons. Instead, their lithe bodies made them excellent scouts or rogues. Abelas, with his broad frame and tall stance was quite the anomaly. Even _she_ found herself curious about what he was capable of.

There was an excited buzz in the air, one she couldn’t help but feel herself. She hadn’t been exaggerating, despite his humble demeanor, Cullen really was quite talented in combat and it showed as soon as he stepped into the sparring ring. Something about him changed when he drew his sword, as if doing so shrugged off all his innate insecurities and left only a resolute confidence in its wake.

One of his men handed him his shield and backed away quickly, his departure serving as an unspoken start to the match.

It was Abelas who moved first, circling clockwise around the ring, sword held in front, his eyes fixated on the Commander. Cullen mirrored his moves, stepping lightly, shield raised in a defensive position, pupils moving back and forth as he studied his opponent’s movement.

A hush fell over the crowd and Lavellan found herself inching closer to the fencing, entranced by the two warriors stalking each other around the ring.

With a powerful leap, Abelas attacked, his sword swinging in a mighty arc coming down with a deafening _crack_ upon Cullen’s shield. Just as quickly as he’d sprung forward, he reeled back and out of the Commander’s reach and continued to circle.

For his part, Cullen didn’t look the least bit moved by the display though Lavellan could feel her jaw tightening as her teeth clenched. She hadn’t expected Abelas to be that fast.

The elf struck again with the same move as before but instead of retreating, he twisted his body in a circle, using his momentum to bring his sword crashing into Cullen’s flank. He moved so swiftly, Cullen had no chance to deflect the blow, but instead raised his shield up high and brought it down upon the elf’s back, forcing him to the ground.

Just as he was bringing his sword down, Abelas rolled over, bringing his own sword up to block. It became a battle of strength then, of which neither seemed to be gaining any ground until Cullen used his superior position and leaned his body into his blade causing it to slowly descend toward the ground.

She let out a breath, about it call an end to the match when Abelas’ hand began to glow and Cullen was thrown back violently in what looked like a focused mind blast spell. Now free, the elf sprang to his feet, advancing quickly on the Commander, one hand gripping his sword, the other glowing, building for another spell.

Cullen scrambled to his feet, shield raised, but Lavellan noticed he seemed to be glowing himself- an eerie blue that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She had no time to consider the implications of it when he became wrapped in the glow- almost too bright to see. His hand shot toward the sky and then dropped down and a wave of what looked like _magic_ spread out from him in all directions washing over not only Abelas, but everyone in the vicinity.

It felt like fire- like her skin had been set aflame and she fell to her knees as every last drop of her mana was ripped away from her all at once. She retched all over the grass in front of her, holding her stomach as if she’d been punched. She felt disoriented as never before, barely registering someone yelling her name.

“Maker’s breath, Illsa! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

It sounded like Cullen- no, it _was_ Cullen, but he never used her first name so…

She squeezed her eyes as tight as she could trying to get some semblance of her bearings. Cullen had used magic, but that wasn’t right. Cullen wasn’t a mage.

Then it hit her.

He’d used his templar abilities. Being a Dalish, she didn’t understand all the intricacies, but she understood that he’d once been in a position of power in the order. She _thought_ their abilities were tied to their lyrium use, but that was apparently _not_ the case.

She could feel her mana slowly returning, the process sped up some by the draw of her anchor. Opening one eye, she was faced with the horrified face of her Commander.

“Illsa, I’m sorry. Are you alright? I-I didn’t think…”

She tried to give him a reassuring smile. They didn’t talk about it much, so it was easy to forget that Cullen had once been one of them. She’d never actually been at the receiving end of a Templar’s abilities so it didn’t _really_ register what it meant. She felt totally drained- not just of her mana, but physically as well.

“Cullen, I’m okay,” she said with a weak smile and allowed him to help her to her feet. “Just… caught me off guard is all.”

He didn’t buy it, not for a second. He knew better. She looked around to the shocked faces around her. It wasn’t as if her being a mage was a secret, but she suspected these people hadn’t expected their _herald_ to appear quite so _mortal._

Cullen seemed to notice their stares as well and a deep frown crossed his features.

“Everybody, back to your duties!” he commanded sending them scurrying away.

“Really,” she said when the yard was mostly emptied. “I’m fine.”

She was. The spell -or whatever it was- was powerful, but fleeting. She guessed it was meant to temporarily incapacitate a mage’s abilities, leave them vulnerable enough that they could be dealt a killing blow. Useful. Not something she was eager to experience again, but she understood its value.

It was then that she remembered that she had not actually been the target of the spell and her eyes flickered to Abelas who stood stoically on the other side of the practice ring watching her with veiled interest.  When their eyes met, he pushed off the fence he’d been leaning against and approached them. She felt Cullen tense beside her.

“What manner of spell was that?” he asked. “I have never felt such a magic.”

“Did they not have Templars where you’re from?” Cullen asked.

Abelas frowned. “ _Templar_? That word has no meaning to me.”

She and Cullen looked at each other awkwardly. Explaining what, exactly, the Templars were used for was bound to be an uncomfortable conversation and not one she was excited about having at the moment.

She would deflect. For now.

“There’s a lot you need to be brought up to speed about, Abelas. Perhaps we could continue this discussion on the way to Emprise du Lion? If you’d care to join, that is.”

“If you are satisfied I could adequately defend you.”

There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice. She thought he might be offended she wanted to have him tested in battle before allowing him to accompany her. She felt a childish sort of glee that she’d wounded his pride.

“Oh I’m sure we will find _some_ use for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who left kudos on this, and especially those who took the time to comment. It's reassuring to think people might actually be interested in where this is going, so thank you all so much! 
> 
> Things will start to speed up next chapter as Lavellan and company head to Emprise du Lion to investigate the strange happenings there. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


End file.
